This past week, driving to work on 580 east my car “became involved in an accident” with a bus or large van (it happened very quickly and I left the scene in an ambulance, so I’m not positive of all the details).

It was a terrifying, if brief experience, followed by a wave of grief, horror, and despair. My right ankle was badly sprained and my left pinkie finger was dislocated in a way that turned my stomach.

The consequences for me could easily have been much, much worse. I am convinced that the airbag and seatbelt saved life, so I consider the bruises, cuts, and scrapes all over my body to be a small price to pay.

I was unable to open the driver side door and I called 911 myself. The first paramedics on the scene were primarily interested in keeping my neck steady and making sure I had no spinal cord injuries, no fractures of the “long bones” in my body and no internal (visceral) injuries. They put a brace on my neck, strapped me to a board, and drove me to the Kaiser emergency room.

Thus began a long and dispiriting day and a recovery process that will probably take at least six weeks. Again, I’m really not complaining. Look, I’m even typing with a splint on my left (dominant) hand.

It’s amazing the relatively trivial things that flash through your mind in the aftermath of a disaster like this. Things like “how am I going to play my ukulele now?” and “how am I going to get these presents to the post office.”

I’m lucky to be here. I’m looking on the bright side.